Remembering
by EdenAdvance
Summary: Spoilers for up to DMD. John reflects, his POV. Anyone knows what angst is, 'cause I'm wondering. PLease R/R


Remembering

Remembering   
by EdenAdvance

Disclaimer: I don't own them. I don't get any money, so I'm not worth it if you sue me.   
Spoilers: Die me Dichotomy, maybe some others. Nothing later past that.   
Notes: It's in John's POV. There, no arguing. Also, since I dread watching DMD, I can't completely remember whether Moya was still alive. She is in this fic. So if it's wrong, I hereby slap AU on it. You'll hate me after this fic anyhow.   
FeetBack: Very much welcomed. EdenAdvance@yahoo.com. Flamers will be trout-slapped.   
Archiving: The usual places, meaning: Nat's site, Redbeard's Archive, mine. If you want my fic, please ask me. 

Remembering by EdenAdvance

It's so quiet here on Moya. 

Quieter than it used to be. 

I can't stand the quietness.

When it's quiet, I think too much... too much about you. I think too much about your death. It's like a bad movie, playing on and on inside my head. Instead of having endless nightmares about Scorpius, you fill my dreams at night. Yet, they are far from the pleasant dreams I used to have about you.

I wonder where you are. Is it like Sebaceans believe it to be? Or is it more like I told you, so long ago, when we were caught in the Flax? Can you dream? Can you remember? Do you blame me for all the things that happened to you? Do you hate me now? 

I do. I blame myself for getting you on Moya in the first place, although I know that you chose to come with us, in a way. I blame me for your death, for the destruction of your Prowler. Zhaan and D'Argo keep telling me that it was Scorpius that caused your death and that I could do nothing to prevent it. 

I hate myself for all the pain I ever caused you. The pain I caused you when I got you stuck on the false Earth. The pain I caused you when I stormed off and made a life for myself on Aquaria. 

If I had never helped you, back in the beginning, when we met in the cell, you could still be dominating the lesser species. Doing the things you were trained for, the things you were made for. 

They worry about me. Zhaan, D'Argo, Chiana, even Rygel worries about me. They keep telling me to eat, to drink, to sleep, to keep moving on. It is like they don't understand what I did to you, to all of us. I betrayed you, I betrayed us all. 

Sometimes, I wish they would've just left everything the way they found me, unable to say anything coherent. Sometimes I wish I would've died on that table. I wish they'd never found that doctor that put my brains back together, enabling me to speak again. To remember again. He was a miracle doctor; I can remember everything again, even the things I want to forget so much. 

I hear D'Argo approaching, disturbing the quiet. That's the only thing they do of which I am grateful. They never leave me alone, afraid I will do something stupid. It is as if I'm more deficient that ever. Incapable of taking care of myself. The thing that I'm truly grateful of is that they disturb the quiet, keep my mind away from you. 

Zhaan chants when she is with me. 

D'Argo plays that musical instrument of his, Lord knows, the sound makes my ears hurt.

Chiana keeps babbling about things to do to make you feel alive again. The ideas she has sometimes scare me. 

Pilot talks about his homeworld, asks questions about mine. He tells me about Moya and his bond with her. 

And Rygel? He eats. He's never been noisier than now. 

I look at D'Argo as he stands still beside me and I nod to him, ready to go. I follow him to Command, but suddenly I find myself outside the room that holds my module. It's still there, abandoned and forgotten. 

I try to stop the tears from flowing freely, as the memories of the burial flood me. Memories of you, the last day I saw you. D'Argo is back beside me, laying his hand on my shoulder, not knowing what else to do. 

"It's okay John." He simply says, pushing me forward to Command. "Sometimes it is good to remember..." 

I wonder if it's true. Is it better to remember you, instead of fighting to forget you? Is it better to learn to live with the constant nightmares at night? I wonder...


End file.
